


Eat Me, Drink Me

by Emma_Swan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Regina Mills - Freeform, Set During Season One, Swan Queen Week Winter 2017, coffee shop AU, emma swan - Freeform, enchanted forest, weird in a wonderland-way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Swan/pseuds/Emma_Swan
Summary: After Jefferson tricks Emma into drinking spiked tea, she soon finds herself in another place, in another time, sharing coffee with the most unlikely of people -- one of them being Regina Mills. Except she's not the Mayor that Emma's so used to.Swan Queen Week Day 2 - Coffee Shop AU





	

The decadent treats in the glass case of Jefferson’s new tea and coffee shop were glossy with frosting of all colors. Each enticing dessert was made with only the best ingredients – the finest cocoa in all the land, butter and milk from the royal dairy, and the rarest of magic from across all realms.

The teas, coffees and other bubbling brews left a mingling of spellbinding scents in the air. All of the drinks promised the imbiber a wonderfully pleasant or surprising effect.

The greatest part of all was that on the night of Jefferson’s grand opening, he would offer every one of his delectable creations for free to a small party of his guests. 

He jaunted around in a celebratory manner all day. There were so many decorations to hang, and so little time.

Banners cascaded over the ceiling, flapping like live birds. The mismatched seats seemed to be playing a game of musical chairs among themselves.

Puffs of green and purple smoke arose gloriously from the kitchen, setting the atmosphere for a night of unusual fun.

The clock struck six, and then two, and then six again – then settled indecisively on seven thirty-five, ringing the time for the guests to arrive.

Rumplestiltskin popped in, flooding the shop with rosy smoke. Two strange sisters stepped through a floor-length mirror. Dr. Frankenstein came by lightning storm. The tiny statue of a cat that had watchful, gleaming eyes, turned into a real grinning cat, and then into a whiskered man. The whole party entered in quite extraordinary ways, filling out the shop until only two people were left to show. 

One of the people, Jefferson had no trouble pulling through the hat – a baffled-looking Emma Swan, half-delirious from the effects of tea already. He untied the bindings on her wrists, and offered her a seat.

The last person arrived in the most ordinary of ways -- through the open door. The young queen looked unsettled, but tried to hold her head high as she stepped into the crowded room.

“Welcome, my esteemed friends!” Jefferson cheerily crowed. “Please eat and drink your fill. I have no doubt that you will be patrons of my shop for the rest of your lives once you see what I have in store for you. These delicacies cannot be found anywhere, except for here. Come now, and try something.”

The room tilted, and faces swam through Emma’s blurred vision. Squinting in an attempt to see better, Emma all but melted into the chair where she was seated. 

Bright colors felt enhanced, the fantastic whiff of pastries and coffee disorientated her, and she shook her head in disbelief. “What the hell was in that tea?” she mumbled.

A more pressing question trickled through her sluggish mind, and finally rolled off her tongue like a heavy marble moments later. “Where am I?”

This couldn’t be in Jefferson’s house, could it? The place was pretty big… but they hadn’t gone that far. Had she blacked out? “Jefferson!” Emma snapped impatiently, but the response she got was unsatisfactory.

“Already entertaining, I’m afraid!” A small giggle followed the words, but where they came from was hard to pin down.

Swiveling in her chair, Emma slung one arm over the back of it to steady herself and blinked the room into better focus. “Who said that?” She quietly demanded to the group of people wandering around.

“Who said what?” Came a curious voice from next to her, amused and slow.

Emma’s head turned faster than her eyes could follow, but when they finally caught up she found herself face-to-face with a handsome fellow with beautiful, peculiar eyes. He wore a gold hoop in his right earlobe that somehow worked with his thin, waxed mustache. 

“Already entertaining, I’m afraid.” She repeated easily.

“Well I best be on my way, then,” He assessed smoothly, with a large, lazy grin. A grin, Emma soon realized, with far too many teeth.

Against her better judgment she leaned closer to inspect them. “No, not me! What I heard.” She muttered distractedly. “Where exactly are we?”

The man blinked slowly, his shoulders barely lifting in a shrug. “We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.” Shifting in his chair, the man turned curiously towards Emma. “A better question is who are you?”

There it was again--that unnerving yet mesmerizing grin. “Me?” Emma questioned, momentarily confused by all he said. “Emma. And I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating.”

“All the more reason to never trust toadstools,” He murmured almost inaudibly.

“Or tea,” Emma offered up instead.

The sudden sound of a chair being pulled back drew Emma’s attention, but what she witnessed left her gawking.

“Did someone say tea?” A giant talking hare inquired enthusiastically as he made himself comfortable at the table. His nose twitched as much as his ears, and his eyes darted wildly.

“A-are you, are you seeing this giant rodent?” Emma stuttered quietly. One of the creature’s eyes had finally stopped darting around, and now it was looking straight at her. She found herself unable to look anywhere else, and so she sat transfixed. “Anyone?” She murmured. “Or is it just me?”

“Oh, don’t mind that old dust bunny!” Jefferson called out, from where he stood at the door. He wore a dapper coat with striped lapels and a top hat embellished by a single feather.

With a furrow of his brow that showed his serious state of mind, he plucked the plume from his hat. Then he pressed the tip to a long sheet of parchment on which the names of his guests were scrawled.

As soon as he finished that official business, Jefferson spun on his heel towards the young queen and gripped her by the elbow. “Regina!” he grinned welcomingly. “So glad you could make it. I have a special delight for you!”

Regina stared down the length of her arm, to where she was ensnared by the master tailor. “Oh,” she softly gasped. “I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite.” Her eyebrows came together frettingly, and her lips formed an uncertain pout.

“Nonsense!” Jefferson declared, and then ushered her towards his impressive glass case. He grabbed a perfect tart from its resting spot, and presented her with it. “Taste!” he urged, and forcefully kept her in his clutches.

Regina cradled the pastry in her palm and reluctantly lifted the treat to her mouth. She took a large bite to appease him.

Only then did he steer her over to a place at the table, right between Emma and the March Hare.

“Hello,” Regina muttered shyly, her cheeks pink with the blush of nervousness. “I’m Regina.”

“Madam Mayor? It’s me, Sheriff Swan!” Emma squeaked in surprise, then almost slid off the chair as the woman came into focus. Her head felt light as a feather but her limbs were heavy. It was probably for the best. Maybe it helped to tether her from floating off. “I’m either tripping on drugs, or losing my mind.” Emma divulged with a bit of a startled laugh. 

Regina frowned at Emma, and tried to shift her chair away from the odd woman who had called her mayor. It took a minute for the concoction in her pastry to take effect, but when it did, she toppled backward. Her arms reflexively looped around the stranger’s shoulders, and she hung on for dear life. “The whole room is suddenly spinning!” she cried.

“Yeah I noticed that too. It better stop soon.” With Regina’s arms hanging off her shoulders like a loose fitting jacket, Emma couldn’t help the way the soft, almost fruity, perfume tickled her senses. “How’d your hair get so long?” She blurted, unable to keep her fingers from twirling a strand of glossy, dark hair. “Feels so real.” Emma murmured to herself, unaware of how much she was leaning into the table and Regina.

“If spinning is the problem perhaps it can be the answer, why not take a twirl and see?” The handsome man suggested with a playful grin, his beautiful, strange eyes peering at them both with a mixture of curiosity and mischief.

Emma blinked rapidly, as if trying to absorb his words, “Guess it couldn’t hurt to try.” She finally mumbled to Regina. She waited for the brunette to settle back in her seat before she found herself relaxing back into her own chair. “Ready?” She asked, head already lolling back as she twisted the chair with her feet and spun around. It didn’t seem to matter that the seat hadn’t been one of the modern swivel kinds she was so used to--it defied logic for it to spin so smoothly, as if acting on her sheer will alone.

Regina kicked her feet as her own chair went topsy-turvy, and swung back and forth. The uncooperative seat tried to throw her off, and only then began to twirl. At a pace that made her hair blow in every direction, she went round and round until she actually began to enjoy it. “This isn’t so bad!” she called, grinning ear-to-ear. The ride came to a swift and sudden end when the chair launched her onto the table. She turned to sit with her legs dangling off, and self-consciously pulled down the end of her skirt as she realized she was right in front of Emma. “Excuse me,” she apologized, and tried to stand up—however, she found it quite impossible to move. “I appear to be stuck here. Sheriff, won’t you please help me down?”

“You might as well stay right where you are,” the March Hare instructed. “If you’re stuck in one place, perhaps the room will be, too!”

The logic seemed quite odd, but everyone else at the tea party appeared to accept it unquestioningly.

“Can I interest you in an after dinner mint?” Jefferson asked, as he carried around a tray covered in pills that were all shades of red.

If this was a fevered dream, or a drugged hallucination, Emma thought she might as well indulge in it. Though it felt beyond her control to even resist in the first place.

Plucking up a pill Emma held it in front of her face and watched in amazement as it changed from red, to blue, to yellow, then settled finally on a glowing magenta. “Whoa.” She murmured. “When in Rome, right?” Without another word, Emma popped the pill into her mouth and reached around Regina to the steaming pot of coffee nestled in a pile of crookedly shaped mugs. She poured herself a large mug and held it gingerly in her hand before sipping it to wash the pill down.

Regina opened her mouth to decline Jefferson’s strange medicine, but her hand appeared otherwise convinced. She let Jefferson give her the pill, and swallowed it down with a sip of coffee from the oversized cup that was being passed between all of the guests.

“Regina, won’t you serve those cakes over there to Sheriff Swan?” Jefferson requested, and Regina helpfully fetched the cake.

“Now eat all that you desire, and maybe even take a bite of desire itself,” Jefferson smugly muttered, picking up the most flawless of the cakes and encouragingly holding it out for Emma.

Emma thrust the mug into Regina’s hand and took the cake from Jefferson. It smelled of chocolate and spices, and Emma bit into it like she was starved. The inside oozed thickly out, sparkly and golden, like a sunbeam.

The effect swept over her immediately and she sank back in her chair, lips parted and eyes half shut. It felt like fireworks were exploding through her bloodstream, tingly and warm. Everything felt lighter, looked mesmerizingly bright, and brought on an intense rush of freedom.

The March hare took a cake for himself, his whiskers twitching as he licked the frosting off it. He opened his mouth to take a bite, then shrank to the size of a mouse and floated towards the ceiling, still holding his cup.

Regina watched the hare bounce like a small balloon along the rafters. When she returned her gaze to Emma, she drank a big gulp of the coffee and then put the mug aside. “Come with me,” she pleaded, and grasped Emma’s hand in her own. “Come over here.” With all of her might, she could barely tug the sheriff out of the chair. Her tiny but strong arms became strained from the effort, but she managed to get Emma away from the table and into a more secluded corner. “Sheriff,” she whispered. “You don’t belong here, do you?”

Emma felt like a ribbon being dragged behind Regina, her limbs were uncoordinated and her bones were like wet noodles. With purpose, she leaned back against the wall and splayed her hand against the cool surface to steady herself. Regina looked somehow younger, vulnerable, and Emma experienced the sudden surge to protect her. “No, I definitely don’t.” She stressed softly, feeling like she could do anything.

Emma’s face moved like a pinwheel in front of Regina’s eyes, and the queen clutched onto her again. “Will you please take me away with you when you leave?” she asked, pressing her cheek against Emma’s chest.

The intensity in Regina’s plea, and in her grasping hands, startled Emma as much as the soft warmth of the woman’s body. 

Her own unsteady hands found the woman’s waist and Emma had to wonder if she was going mad. “Yes. I’ll get us out of here.” She husked with authority against Regina’s ear, and reached for the badge on her hip reassuringly. Except the badge wasn’t there, and her skinny jeans felt like leather.

The March Hare sailed down from his heights then, and bopped against the wall nearby, distracting them. Regina stepped backward, and sank down onto the floor. “I feel so strange,” she lamented, holding her head.

“Yeah, you and me both,” Emma mumbled more to herself than anyone else.

“What is your real name, Sheriff?” Regina asked with a wince.

Crouching down to get eye level with Regina, she smiled a little sadly. “I’m Emma.” She whispered, as if it were a secret. Taking the woman’s hand, she slowly guided Regina back to her feet. “And we’re leaving this place.” Emma stated with conviction, and took Regina’s hand.

“Callooh! Callay!” Jefferson cheered, eyes agog with excitement as he strutted around the pair of them and addressed Regina. “It would appear as though thy hero has come. Make haste through that door there.” He pointed towards a sideways door, which looked rather like the entry through which Regina had arrived.

Regina squeezed Emma’s hand, and they both ran for the door, though they had to take turns going through.

On the other side stood a staircase, and they both raced up the steps to the top. The small attic room they entered was blissfully quiet and instantly sobering. It resembled Emma’s apartment loft, and Regina settled down on the cramped bed.

The oddest sense of deja vu hit Emma as she gazed at her surroundings, then she let out a soft, “Oh.” There was no way they could actually be in her apartment right now, and yet here they were. Though it was the sight of Regina on her bed that confirmed it; this was all in her head. 

“Thank you,” Regina softly panted. She held one of Emma’s pillows against her heaving chest, and only then dared to glance around at the tiny room.

“You’re welcome,” Emma rasped, reaching for a glass of water that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

“Is this yours?” Regina frowned, and picked up a woolen blanket with Emma’s name on it. “This place—it’s your home, isn’t it?”

“Well it, I mean, it sure looks like it’s my apartment.” Waving her arm around, Emma motioned to all the things she knew were simultaneously hers and not hers, but didn’t share that out loud.

With a deep sigh of relief, Regina sprawled out on the mattress and shut her eyes. “I can’t feel the pull of magic here.”

“Yeah, the last thing you’ll find around me is magic,” Emma said dryly, then cringed. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say when Regina was on her bed. “So…” Emma dragged the word out like an awkward teenager and shrugged. What could she say to hallucinations of a woman she enjoyed fighting with? What did it matter if it was all in her mind anyway?

Emma sank down onto the bed next to Regina and let herself relax into the mattress. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re trying to run away? I feel like… I barely know you.”

Regina arranged a lumpy pillow under her head, and turned on her side to face Emma. “It’s best if I tell you nothing,” she whispered. “If you ever find yourself back in that other land, you could be charged with kidnapping and treason.”

Had it been acid, or mushrooms in that tea? Maybe something else entirely. The only thing Emma was truly certain of was that her mind was melting, and she didn’t even care. “Yeah, let’s not add treason to my record. There’s enough on it already.” Emma quipped lightly, turning to watch Regina. The faint lights from the street illuminated the room and cast the brunette in a pale, almost orange glow.

Stars twinkled in the night sky, and Regina gazed through the window at them. “Wherever we are, I like it better than home.” Her chest still heaved from the thrill of escape. “You know, it’s strange. You say you barely know me, but the way you look at me – I can sense fear....or excitement.”

Emma settled onto her side to study Regina. “Okay first of all, I’m not afraid of you, and as for excitement…” Emma faltered, then smirked slightly, “Yeah, you got me with that one, but I’m fairly certain it’s mutual. It’s... complicated.”

Regina seemed displeased with her inability to inspire fear, but she let out the lightest laugh at Emma’s explanation of the energy between them. “I wasn’t referring to that form of excitement,” she exclaimed, and then fussed anxiously with her riding skirt.

“Sure you weren’t.” Emma deadpanned quietly, albeit with an amused roll of her eyes. 

“Don’t get me wrong. I feel an odd connection to you,” Regina sniffed. “But it must be the tea, and the coffee, and all of the sweets we’ve eaten. To be honest, you’re not really my type.”

Ruffled by Regina’s sudden declaration, Emma tensed for a second then blurted instinctively back, “Good thing I’m not into you, or that could have been awkward.” 

Regina grasped the loose-fitting tank top that Emma wore, as if it came down to the sheriff’s awful taste in fashion. “Do you always dress in these rags?”

With a quick, and deliberate swipe of her hand, Emma smoothed her black tank top out of the woman’s reach and sighed heavily. “There’s the Regina I know.” Always quick to insult. “These aren’t rags, and I look good in them. They’re better than all the layers of clothing you’re stuffed into. Guess going to the bathroom isn’t a high priority.”

“I’m sorry, are you offended?” Regina meekly chuckled.

Emma snorted out a defensive, “No, of course not.” It figured that even in a fevered fantasy, Regina would hit her with sass rather than seduce her. Jesus, what did that say about her as a person?

Regina began unlacing the leather vest she wore to show Emma that she had a simple shift dress on underneath. “There aren’t too many layers,” she insisted. “Not enough to shield me from your wandering eyes, anyway. And I’ll happily make it easier on you.”

Even in the middle of being called out for looking, Emma still did it. To be fair, it was hard not to—Regina had stood up and shed most of her clothes. Then the young queen searched through Emma’s closet.

“Why don’t you have any night clothes?” Regina demanded.

“Wait, nightclothes? Like, for sleeping in?”

It was vaguely amusing watching Regina rummage through her things, but Emma finally got off the bed to help the woman. “Look, here.” Emma murmured, grabbing an outfit in two seconds. She thrust the items into Regina’s hand and said, “Put that shirt on with those shorts. I don’t have pajamas, I’m more of a tank top and panties kind of girl.”

Regina clutched the strange t-shirt and the pair of shorts as if confused. “Turn your back,” she commanded.

Emma rolled her eyes again, but followed Regina’s demand and turned her back to the woman. “I wouldn’t have watched you change.” She husked, feeling a twinge of heat rise up her neck.

The t-shirt was much too big on Regina, and hung down past her knees, but she still admired the peculiar attire in the mirror. “There, now I look like I belong,” she announced. “What do you think?”

The sight of Regina in her shirt, which was half draped off the woman’s shoulder, did things to Emma that she certainly would never articulate. So instead she casually remarked, “I think you’re smaller than I realized.”

Whether Regina listened to her was impossible to say, but she crawled back into the Emma’s bed. 

“You have such tiny sleeping quarters,” Regina muttered. “Like those of a servant. Is life hard in your land?” 

“I’m not a servant. You already know I’m the sheriff.” Emma pointed out, then shrugged with a bit of a smirk. “You could say my life is hard there, yeah, but mainly because of you riding my ass every time I try to do my job.”

Regina gaped in horror at Emma’s choice of phrasing. “I don’t quite understand what you’re saying,” she admitted. “I assume you aren’t referring to an actual donkey. All I can say is, that’s very inappropriate. I’ve heard commoners in my kingdom talk like that to their wives, but I won’t tolerate you speaking to me that way--”

“Commoners?” Emma laughed, unable to hide the amusement that twinkled in her eyes. “Look at you being scandalized. Allow me to rephrase, your Majesty.” It was clear Emma thought this was silly from the way she drawled, but she rolled with it regardless. Obviously she’d been reading too much of Henry’s book. “You’re the Mayor, and you like to make it hard for me to do my job.”

“What have I done to get in your way?” Regina asked curiously. “And what do you mean, mayor?” She began untying her braids, and let her long hair flow freely in curls. With a soft huff of discontentment, she tugged Emma’s blankets over them both and then settled in again. “I think Jefferson’s drinks have really affected you, because you’re not making any sense.” 

“So, it makes sense to you that I come from another land, but not that you exist there?” Emma’s golden eyebrows arched but she didn’t have it in her to argue with a woman that really only existed in her head.

Regina put a pillow over the woman’s shoulder, and snugly cozied into Emma’s side. “I suppose I can be the mayor, but elsewhere, I’m a queen." She took a deep breath, and relaxed into Emma. "You know, this is the kind of life I always wanted. Quiet, safe, free. I don’t even mind that your elbow is jabbing me right now--” 

Reclining back against the mattress, Emma let her muscles unwind, and didn’t think about how odd it was that Regina curled up against her. “Ah, yeah, how could I forget I’m in the presence of royalty,” Emma chuckled, her eyelids feeling as heavy as her limbs had earlier. “Emma Swan, finally in bed with Regina Mills.” She added a little deliriously. “That’s alright.” She began, before yawning. “I don’t even mind that you're a figment of my imagination.”


End file.
